


Worrying is Off-Limits

by aheartmadefullmetal16



Series: Standalone Prompts [4]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, F/M, Fluff, i absolutely love fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 09:53:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21195722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aheartmadefullmetal16/pseuds/aheartmadefullmetal16
Summary: In response to an anon prompt on tumblr. It's a lazy day and God knows they deserve some quiet time together.





	Worrying is Off-Limits

Nothing needed to be said. The grey outdoors leaked inside them, creating a stark magnetism between the two that did not need repelling. The rain outside simply slipped from the sky, covering the earth in slick sheets of water. Light bouts of thunder grumbled in the distance, and lightning rose to meet it. Gentle warmth seemed to come from the rain, turning the dust into a sweet, earthy perfume that came into the room through the open window and wrapped them up in a delicious embrace. Worrying was off-limits today, but Roy and Riza couldn’t think of a single thing to be concerned about.

Roy always loved holding Riza close in his arms. Her soft, bare body always fit perfectly to his. She was currently asleep- her soft snores were barely distinguishable from deep breathing, but he knew the difference. The shadow of the rain outside their window speckled her face intermittently, but Roy loved it. He loved _her_. He loved every muscle and scar and callous her soft body had attained. Much of him still felt guilty for causing those scars, but worrying was off-limits today.

A yawn crawled its way out of Riza’s mouth, followed by the most delicate sigh Roy had ever heard in his life. He wasn’t one to let his feelings get the better of him, but they were alone, and anything Riza did made his heart swell up. A smile stretched its way across his face, and he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, taking great care not to wake her. _She’s perfect_, he thought, allowing the tenderest of feelings for his lieutenant- _no, his_ wife _now_\- to manifest in his heart. It had taken so long for them to get to this point. Everything had changed so quickly since Fuhrer Bradley had been killed, and he was grateful for it.

He traced the gentle curve of her cheek, and his fingers wandered down to the silvery scar on her neck. He explored her bare body with his hands, feeling her skin with a reverent adoration. Just as he was tracing the delicate skin of her hips, she stirred, and he stopped, afraid he had woken her. But she simply sighed again and lapsed back into sleep. God, she was beautiful. Her hair fell over her shoulders in a sweaty mess, and her face was still slightly flushed from the sex, but she was gorgeous to him nonetheless.

As he reflected on her, he found himself becoming more and more morose. Part of him longed for the simple days in which they were merely childhood sweethearts, and they didn’t have to worry about things like death or fire or the murders they would commit. Roy had lost count of the amount of people he had killed. At first, in Ishval, he kept count. He’d carve a scar into the softness of his inner thigh for every ten people he killed. He stopped when the line got to his knee on both legs. The scars were fading, but they would always be there as a reminder.

“You’re worrying, aren’t you?”

Riza’s voice was soft, gentle, and soothing, but it startled him out of his thoughts. Roy laughed. “You know me too well.”

“I should think so, Mr. Hawkeye,” she teased, running her fingers through his sweaty bangs.

“That’s not how it works.”

“Oh, very well, _Mr. Mustang_,” she said, chuckling and folding herself into his arms. They settled, skin on skin once more, and Roy couldn’t help but love her more than he ever had. “What were you thinking about?”

He paused. He and Riza had discussed his scars long ago, a conversation in which she firmly encouraged him to accept those dark moments, and then let them go. Those scars had been inflicted so many years ago; nothing of the sort had happened since. Simplifying his thoughts would allow her not to worry as much.

“Ishval,” he said simply. He felt her nod against his chest, and then kiss the hollow of his neck. “I still have nightmares.”

“So do I,” she replied. “That doesn’t mean we have to torture ourselves.”

“I know.”

They lapsed back into silence, and he suspected she fell back asleep. Roy’s sad thoughts lingered, but did not get worse. He decided to let them rest, and to let his body fall into the pleasant fatigue he felt. He pressed his face into his wife’s hair, inhaling the scent of her, listening to the rain outside. He decided to not let Ishval bring the rain inside, where it would disturb the both of them and ruin their lazy day. They both deserved it. They both _needed_ it.

And for once, they felt they could relax. For once, they felt they could leave their worries behind.

Because worrying was off-limits today.


End file.
